I looked at my watch.  I only had three minutes to get my butt out of

the courthouse, across the street, and into the Justice Center, but

Grace's comments about the Glenville property last night were still

bothering me.

I hit six to respond to Jenna's message.  At the beep, I said, 'Hey,

Jenna.  Samantha Kincaid in Major Crimes.  Thanks for the information

on Gunderson.  Could you do me one more favor?  Can you see who owns

the adjacent parcels?  Sorry for the extra work, but I forgot to bring

it up earlier.'

I hit the pound key twice to send the message, hung up, and grabbed

what I needed for court, making a vow to myself as I ran out the door.

If Gunderson didn't own the rural property beyond the urban growth

boundary, I'd let it drop.

Ten.

Word must have spread about T. J. Caffrey, because the TV crews were

back.  Asked to comment on the anticipated motion to quash, I said I

was not going to address matters that had not yet been brought to

court.  It sounded more civilized than, 'You mean that coward s motion

to squirm out of testifying?  No comment.'

Back in the courtroom, I noticed that Roger had returned without his

client.  Under the circumstances, I couldn't blame Townsend for wanting

to avoid sitting in the same room with Caffrey.

When the motion was argued, I stayed out of it as planned, but I found

myself rooting for Slip.  As much as I hated the idea of letting the

defense use Caffrey as a distraction, I deplored even more the idea of

Caffrey invoking the legal process to protect his ass politically.

Fish's polka-dotted bow tie wasn't helping matters.

I watched Caffrey occasionally catch himself chewing his lower lip

while his attorney argued the motion.  When Fish had finished his

presentation, he summarized his principal point.  'Your honor, Mr.

Szlipkowski's subpoena would add nothing to this case other than an

opportunity to question a high-profile public figure under oath about

private matters, a spectacle that should be permitted only if there is

a clear showing of the need for the information.  Mr.  Szlipkowski has

made no showing at all, let alone a clear one.  Put simply, even if he

were to establish what he alleges a contention that we are not

conceding it would have no bearing whatsoever on the question of Mr.

Jackson's guilt.'

Put simply, Fish was insinuating that the subpoena was setting up a

political perjury trap.  He couldn't have spun it any better,

especially for a big party Democrat like Prescott.  There wasn't a soul

among the party faithful who wasn't wary about demanding answers about

sex under oath.

Slip did his best, but in the end, it was all a big so-what?  So what

if Clarissa and Caffrey talked?  So what if they were even boffing each

other?  There was no other reason to believe that Caffrey knew anything

about Clarissa's murder.

Except, of course, that nagging coincidence that she was found and

Jackson worked at a property whose value would be determined by T. J.

Caffrey's vote.

Prescott being Prescott, she had to take a break in chambers before

issuing her ruling.  When she finally retook the bench, it was clear

that Fish's spin had taken.  She quashed the subpoena, thanked Caffrey

for being present in the event she had decided otherwise, and told him

he was free to leave.

Hopefully, the news crews would be waiting for him outside, yelling the

questions on the street that he'd bullied his way out of in the

courtroom.

Slip had played his last card.  He did his best to gnaw away at the

medical examiner's report, arguing that the state should be barred from

proceeding until they reconciled their theory of the case with the fact

that Clarissa had been dressed after she was killed.  But, in the end,

we all knew that wasn't the law.  He'd have to do that kind of gnawing

in front of the jury.

'Does the defense have any more witnesses?'  Prescott asked.

'Not for this afternoon, your honor,' Slip replied, 'but we had assumed

that the hearing would continue until Monday.  I would like to have the

weekend to reconsider.  As your honor knows, the parties were given

only a day to prepare by Judge Levinson.'

Any other judge in the courthouse would have ripped Slip a new one for

assuming anything about the length of the hearing.  To judges who have

forgotten what it's like to practice, the lack of time to prepare is

never an excuse for a lack of preparation.

Prescott, however, had no problem with it.  'I was planning on taking

the weekend to consider my decision, so here's what we'll do: Reconvene

here Monday morning at nine.  If either party wishes to submit

additional evidence, the record remains open.  Otherwise, I will

announce my decision then.  And, in the event that it makes a

difference to the lawyers, I have formed a tentative opinion based on

what I've heard today.'

She was sending a message to Slip.  He was going down in flames, but

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